It’s muggy. This is Jongdae’s first thought upon waking up on the other side of life. He blinks hard, wiping little beads of sweat out of his eyes. The last thing he remembers is running headlong into the opposing army’s charge and dodging an enemy spear thrown at him.

Well, trying to, at least. Apparently, his dodging skills were . He gingerly touches the hole in his chest and yelps as he watches it start to slowly close up, the flesh reconstituting little by little. Squeamish even in death, he tries not to wretch. He averts his eyes and ends up taking in his new surroundings.

Steam rises from the dark umber ground all around him, though it’s not excessively hot in this barren land. Behind him, there are faint sounds of battle and horse hooves. Up ahead, about twenty paces, he can barely make out a river cutting lazily across the rocky wasteland. No man’s land. He’s in the great divide between his past and his permanent future.

Frantically, Jongdae checks the pockets of his army-issued tunic and sighs in relief upon finding a coin. He thanks the Theban militia for at least giving him Baekhyun’s obol for safe passage into the afterlife. He ventures forward cautiously, avoiding the slight puffs of steam the pop out of the crevices under his feet. What’s there to worry about, he’s dead, he tries to reason with himself, but it’s instinctual to protect oneself. Perhaps pain still exists in the Underworld.

When he arrives on the bank of the River Styx, he peers up and down the waterway but sees nothing. He squats down carefully to wait. Unbidden, a pale-faced beauty back in Thebes floats through his mind. How will the man react to Jongdae’s absence when the troops return in a few weeks’ time? Will he even notice. Sigh.

While he’s lost in the fog of his own daydreaming, a small wooden boat approaches, parting the steamy air like a curtain. Jongdae scrambles to his feet, unsure if he should wave and shout or just assume the hooded figure steering the boat with his oar will notice him. The person piloting the boat moves his paddle lethargically. Each slow carve through the water gives off a menacing feel.

The watercraft is almost even with his position on the bank when Jongdae finally summons the courage to speak up, lest he be passed by. “Excuse me!”

The man in the boat shrieks and nearly loses his paddle in the murky waters. “What in the name of Suho!”

“Sorry.”

“Why’d you wait until I was a few feet away to scream at me?”

“I thought… I thought you might sense me on your own?”

“What am I, a ing bloodhound? Was I supposed to smell you from a kilometer away?”

The figure stares at him with fierce, bluish-grey eyes that are not quite human. The arched eyebrow he’s wearing perfectly portrays a very human sense of sarcasm and sass, though. “I don’t know,” Jongdae fumbles. “You seemed... contemplative. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Except you totally did.” He points his oar directly at Jongdae, accusingly.

This isn’t going well. He’s dependent on this guy to get to… wherever he’s going. “My apologies. I was looking for Baekhyun?”

“You’ve found him.” Baekhyun stands in his boat, arms folded across his front, staring at him expectantly.

Oh. OH. “I have a coin.” Jongdae holds the grubby obol up as proof of his payment.

“Alright, now we’re talking. Hand it here.” The ferryman extends his left hand out from his pool of robes. The skin is withered and a disconcerting smoky shade, but Jongdae tries not to stare as he drops the coin carefully in his palm.

Baekhyun’s hand retreats back into his coal black robes, depositing the obol somewhere. The hand reappears with a paper ticket that he examines before giving it to Jongdae.

Kim Jongdae, Destination: Mourning Fields

“The Mourning Fields, huh?” the ferryman says with a bemused tone. “You sorry bastard. Who was she?”

Jongdae shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Do I have to tell you in order to board the boat?”

“No, I’m just a curious soul, bored with his job and stuck with newly dead humans as my only sources of amusement. I like to collect your kinds’ stories to keep me company on my trips around the Underworld. Sad ones are usually my favorite. Make me feel better about my existence.”

“Well, that’s awfully self-serving,” Jongdae says with disdain, climbing onto the boat.

Baekhyun rocks the vessel unnecessarily, causing Jongdae to stumble backwards onto his . “Watch the backtalk. I’m still captain of this ferry. I can make your ride pleasant or… turbulent.”

Right. Fickle bastard, duly noted. “Let’s say I tell you who it was that landed me in Mourning Fields. What’s in it for me?”

Baekhyun rubs his chin thoughtfully. “A trade? Okay, I’ll give you the long route to your final destination, a mini-tour of the Underworld of sorts, complete with some of my favorite spots.”

Well, might as well enjoy roaming the Underworld while he can. He’s not exactly in a hurry to get to the eternal resting place for sad love. “Okay, fine.”

“Excellent! So, how did you meet her? Was she chambermaid? A brother’s wife?” Baekhyun asks, a little too gleeful to learn his story.

“No… first of all, it wasn’t a she.”

“Oh? Is it a nameless slave boy you fell for? Or your own brother!”

“No,” Jongdae sighs in frustration. “Do you want me to tell my story or would you rather play Guess Who for the rest of eternity?”

Baekhyun contemplates this for a second too long, making Jongdae wish he’d never asked, before inclining his robed head and gesturing for him to continue.

“I crossed paths with him in the market one morning when I was 12 years old. I was nervous because it was my first trip there on my own, and I ended up dropping my purse of coins. They scattered everywhere, and a boy standing by a nearby stall noticed and came over. He was kind, helped me gather them up before they were trampled underfoot, and when I looked up to thank him...” Jongdae sighs dreamily, remembering it like it was yesterday. “His face shone like the sun, I swear.”

“Humans and their impassioned love at first sight nonsense,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Skip the gushing over his physical attributes, I’ve heard it all before.”

Jongdae blinks a few times, trying to get over memories of the crinkles in the boy’s eye smile. “Every time I went to market from that day onward, I’d look for him, and I was lucky enough to cross paths with him almost weekly. He’d bestow upon me the most glimmering smile and ask if I’d lost any coins that day. On a good day, I’d get to talk with him for minute before he was summoned along by his mother. On a less fortunate day, I wouldn’t get to say anything in return at all. But it went on like that for several years, until he didn’t come to the market anymore.”

“Well why not? And why didn’t you keep in touch outside of this grocery run and fulfill a relationship with him if you were so smitten?”

“He was of a higher class than I. My family doesn’t own land, we’re laborers, and his family is… not.”

“I see, classic ‘poor boy, rich boy’ story. Why not try to better your station in life and try for his heart, anyway?”

“I did - well, was trying to anyway, when I died.”

Baekhyun gives him a skeptical look. “In case you haven’t noticed, you died on the field of battle.”

“Yeah, about that… the boy I loved… turned out to be Kim Minseok.”

At this admission, the ferryman roars so loudly with laughter, his hood nearly slips off. “You fell in love with the Prince of Thebes?? Wait, don’t tell me: you joined the army in hopes of impressing him, only to get run-through on your first trip into battle.” Jongdae’s tight-lipped exhale and narrowed eyes convey that he’s spot on. “Oh my gracious, this is in contention for the most pathetic Mourning Fields story I ever heard! Unrequited love between a future king and a peasant-turned-soldier. Did he even know your name, this prince of yours you died to impress?”

“... he knew my face at least. I swear he recognized me when we were commissioned out on our journey to battle,” Jongdae crosses his arms in defiance. He could’ve won Minseok over, he’s sure of it, if he’d been able to rise to the rank of commander. If only he’d had better reflexes… He imagines the crown prince, regal in his robes, perched upon his ornate seat back in Thebes, and pines.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Don’t think too much about it right now. You’ll have all the time in the world, quite literally, for that later. Let’s have some fun, shall we? I promised you a grand tour, let us do the full circuit of the river Styx.” Without further ado, Baekhyun picks up the pace, his oar through the inky black water and sending them downstream, further and further away from the desolate wasteland where Jongdae boarded the boat.

They travel through the Grove of Yixing, admiring all the willow and poplar trees. It’s spring, so Yixing is topside, helping the earth bloom anew, rather than strolling along the winding paths of the grove. They move on, closer to Kris’ palace. Jongdae gets to “meet” the immense guardian to the palace gates, an intimidating three-headed beast. He watches with disturbed awe as Baekhyun playfully talks to each of the three heads in turn.

“Yes, Mongryong, aren’t you the cutest?” The first dog head snarls unattractively at Jongdae but laps at Baekhyun’s ugly long fingers. The second and third heads growl at each other, seemingly arguing. “Toben, Vivi, settle down. I have treats for everyone.” The ferryman produces three bones from his mysterious robes and delivers them into their ferocious jaws.

Jongdae tries not to think about where the femur-sized bones came from.

When demonic puppy playtime is over, Baekhyun suggests that he brace himself. “We’re headed into the true depths of the Underworld now.”

As they enter Tartarus, Jongdae feels his skin prickle with sweat, like exposure in a field with no breeze in the stifling summer heat. Everything here is tinged with red, as though it’s tainted with anger and righteous hate. The misty haze suspended in the air, once a soft white, is now a rosy pink, and even the once-blackened river waters seem to glow the color of cabernet wine.

Off in the distance, Jongdae sees a lone figure on a jagged,